Nimrod the Cat strikes again
Aside from waking to a fresh puddle of cat puke, the nimrod had filled the litterbox so full that there was no more room for anything. So the wife cleans it out, a distasteful job under any circumstances, but when it’s this full I think, hell, leave the litterbox alone, stop feeding the cat.
Anyway, god forbid the literbox be clean for twelve seconds, the cat has to come in and leave a deposit. Then after a few seconds of careful scraping, he RUNS AWAY FROM THE BOX like the HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES was hot on his tail. I swear to god,he cleared one of the kitchen chairs. If I could get him to move off my spot on the bed that fast, I’d be pleased. Fucktard.
I once had to “train” a girlfriend’s cat.
It had a good sense of where I was going to sit, and would jump up and lay down there first. If I tried to shove it off, I’d be treated to the classic claws, teeth, and hissing violent cat show.
Since the damn thing was not bluffing, I decided that a response was in order.
Rubber bands.
In fact nice big ones. They had them by the bucket where I worked at the time.
Next time I tried to politely excavate the cat, first it gave me the same old cat violence display. It looked triumpnant when I then backed off about three feet. So stretched out the fingers, and whapped it with a rubber band.
It vanished with a jolt.
Only had to do it a couple of times before all I had to do was point at it and it got the message.
Attention all hostile felines! Them primates have projectile weapons and can get to you without touching you.
I have heard of squirt guns being used for the same problem.
I have a pretty tough hide; I have, all my life, deliberately let dogs and cats bite me to let them know I don’t care, and I will always win. I have some scratches and scars, but they don’t faze me. When a cat bites or scratches me I usually get the scruff of it’s neck and beat it’s ass pretty severely. Our cat knows that it is around because the daughter likes it and for no other reason.
I really like the rubberband solution, though.
Yeah…scruffing the cat. My husband assisted on adopting the CAT FROM HELL from the vet clinic I was working at. He (the cat) was scheduled to be euthanized the next day because he was just that EVIL. Couldn’t touch him. Couldn’t go near him…or he would F you up in a heartbeat.
Anyway, hubby walks in and this kitten jumps into his arms and cuddles against him, purrs, and is the sweetest thing EVAH. We took his ass home, despite warning after warning that the SPAWN OF SATAN wouldn’t stay sweet forever.
Cat goes home. Cat loves hubby. Cat hates me. Cat bites my lip because I won’t give him people food. Bastard gets scruffed, flipped over, and with all of my might, I SCREAMED into his face (I think my lips were actually against his nose…I was that close) a several-minute long warning about saving his vile ass from death and if he didn’t show some appreciation, I would make sure he made it to kitty hell, one way or another.
Cat never messed with me again. In fact, he loves on me and is very very sweet now. Still a shithead, but very sweet. He glares at me though…I know he remembers. I handle the nail clippers. I handle the baths. I handle the food. He knows better…although in his mind…I am sure he daily plans out my demise.
Here is how you deal with the litter box so you never have to clean it again. Put a clean litter box inside a tall kitchen plastic garbage bag. Pull the handles to snug the bag around the box. This acts as a liner. Fill with litter. When it’s time to change the litter, unsnug the bag and carefully pull it inside out. The dirty litter will be contained in it. Place in the trash, and put the still clean litter box in a new tall kitchen plastic garbage bag and fill …
Stop picking on the cat, Og.
I irritate the cat 1/1000000000th of the amount it irritates me.